I Tried
by The Phantom
Summary: A fic set in the ending for 'Day of Reckoning'. Last time we saw Magneto, he was about to become a little smear on the bottom of the Sentinel. Takes off from there. Probably overrated, just want to be safe. My first XM:E fic!


Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel and other big, important people. I own nothing, nor am I making any money.

Author's Notes: Am I the only person who thought 'Day of Reckoning' rocked? I loved it! It was awesome. Very cool. And I thought it was sympathetic that Pietro went back to Magneto. Anyway, this fic is in the ending of the episode. I did not see 'HeX Factor' (dang it!), so some things may be wrong… But I think I did all right. Please review! 

I Tried

            With a burst of his magnetic powers, Magneto twisted the guided missiles around so they smashed into the Sentinel. Explosions shattered the air, spitting fire and destruction everywhere. The enormous robot lurched forward, falling towards the rooftop…

            Everything happened in slow motion…

            Wanda was knocked off the side of the building. Good riddance, Magneto thought absently. It was her fault, anyway…

            But then the crashing monstrosity filling his vision…

            He was frozen, rooted to the spot, in the curious paralysis that grips terrified animals on their most basic level. Only one thing crossed his mind… 'I'm going to die'.

            Suddenly, he felt himself thrown clear, flying forwards so he landed between the robot's legs, free from the crushing death that had been imminent. 

            Through the dust and the settling rubble, Magneto groggily noticed the helicopters chasing after the X-Copter. Let them try; they'd never make it.

            He turned his attention to the fallen Sentinel. He moved over to it, studying it. The machine had proved to be far deadlier than he'd anticipated. Such a pity. Of course, he would have had it under control if Wanda hadn't insisted on making some dramatic statement…

            Where on earth was Pietro?

            Pietro… Suddenly his mind registered. Standing mutely under the Sentinel, his body absolutely motionless, he hadn't heard it…. But now it rushed back to him. Feeling two hands pressing against him, and that familiar, young voice shouting,

            "Move, father!"

            "Pietro…" he whispered, staring at the wreck.

            After standing there in shock for a moment, he finally raised his hands and summoned his weakened powers. The Sentinel lurched, twisted, but he was too exhausted to lift it. At last, he simply tore it into pieces, tossing the fragments aside to get to the center of the pile.

            A flash of green…

            "Pietro!" he cried, racing forward. 

            The boy was motionless, not moving a muscle. His uniform was torn, and ripped across the right shoulder so that the sleeve fell down his arm and his back and chest were partially bare. Magneto knelt next to him, gently turning him onto his back.

            Blood was trickling from his mouth, and his lower body was crushed, fatally wounded. His left arm was yanked from his socket and broken in three different places. A large patch of flesh was missing from the back of his head, and blood was everywhere. But his eyes opened, slowly, painfully, and his glassy, unfocused gaze drifted around.

            "Father…?" 

            His voice was faint, a creaky whisper. 

            "Pietro… I'm here."

            He cradled his son in his arms, carefully kneeling to be more comfortable. The hazy blue eyes suddenly became piercingly clear, looking right at him. Pietro's mouth worked soundlessly, trying to form words.

            "Shh… you don't have to speak, Pietro."

            "I… I… I'm sorry…"

            Magneto was startled. 

            "Sorry? You don't have to be sorry for anything, don't be ridiculous-"

            But Pietro shook his head violently; triggering a coughing fit that sprayed blood out of his mouth. Magneto winced at the hollow, rasping breathing. Shuddering, Pietro relaxed in his grip again.

            "I… failed you…"

            The words pounded through Magneto's brain. Failure… Pietro was dying and all he cared about was failure? 

            "I… I didn't… push myself… hard enough…"

            "But Pietro…"

            Magneto was at a loss for words. -What have I done?- his mind screamed. Years of training, trial and labor, all for the mutant soldier his son would be. The years of hardening him against the loss of his sister, pushing him through his work till he was about to break. And always telling him he could do better, fight harder, and be more. 

            He'd wrecked this boy.

            A boy that could have been popular and happy, content with who was. Instead, he'd twisted him into someone who could never be satisfied, who always sought out challenges to prove himself to anyone watching. 

            "Father…"

            Magneto absently wondered why that sounded so strange, and then it hit him. He'd never allowed Pietro to call him father. It had always been 'Sir'. Now those barriers were breaking… death's imminence tore them down… 

            "Father…"

            "Yes… yes, my son, I'm here."

            He carefully stroked his fingers through the boy's soft white hair, now stained with red. 

-What have I done? This boy…-

            "I… I'm sorry…"

            "You don't have to be sorry… you saved my life…"

            His voice cracked. Even as he spoke the words he was just realizing them. If he had been faster, smarter, gotten out of the way or used his power, Pietro wouldn't be fading away.

            "Why?" he choked out.

            The boy smiled faintly, a ghost of a grin lightly brushing his features.

            "I… I love you… Father…"

            Magneto's heart broke. And suddenly, he wasn't Magneto anymore. This young man was not his loyal follower Quicksilver. Now, he was a man, Erik Magnus Lensherr, and the dying boy he held in his arms was his son.

            His son, who had never heard him say 'I love you'…

            And he wept, broken in heart and soul… realizing the monster he'd become… And he felt the painful movement of Pietro's chest rising and falling, struggling to hold on…

            "I'm sorry… Father…"

            Erik tried to speak, but no sound came out.

            The boy's eyes were fading, the brilliant, icy blue turning dull, cold silver… his breathing was slowing… And Erik clung to him as though his grip would keep him in the world of the living, to keep him alive and give himself a chance to be redeemed. A chance to wipe away all the pain he'd caused this boy, this boy who had only wanted to please him, who had abandoned his friends to join the only father he'd ever known… the only man he'd needed to prove himself to… Erik needed that chance. He needed Pietro to live. He was willing his strength to him, willing every breath to be drawn…

            A coughing fit seized the boy, and blood splattered on the front of Erik's costume. When it passed, Pietro's breaths were short and shallow. 

            Suddenly, he looked back up at Erik, who felt his heart stop. Slowly, agonizingly, ghostly pale fingers reached up to him, settling on his forehead. With a final burst of strength, Pietro pushed upwards…

            The helmet clattered to the ground, and Magneto fell as well. Now, it was only Erik, a man who had been lost for far too long, and dragged this boy down with him. 

            Pietro's fingers lightly slid over Erik's face, smudging the tears while trying to wipe them away.

            "I'm sorry… I failed you… Father…"

            The hand fell back to his side, unable to hold it up any longer. And as his hazy eyes connected with Erik's gaze, he whispered the words that would haunt the man till the end of his days…

            "I tried…"

            And he was gone. Releasing a final, rasping breath, he died in his father's arms. His head dropped back lifelessly, releasing Erik from his gaze.

            Staring in shock, Erik knelt there, cradling the dead boy. He was numb; felt like he was flying, or drowning… and then it finally became clear to him…

            A howl of despair and agony wrenched from him. The tears poured down his face in rivulets, falling with gentle splashes on Pietro's tattered uniform and mixing with his blood. And Erik clutched his son to him, rocking back and forth.

            He buried his face in the space between Pietro's neck and shoulder, feeling the smooth skin already going cold. Bringing his lips near the boys' ear, he whispered softly…

            "I love you… my son…

            I tried." 

            ~ The End


End file.
